Rebuilding Bridges
by Shannon K
Summary: This is a sequal to A lesson in Living. Nick returns to paris and must deal with his feelings concerning Amanda and her actions. Rated T for potty language.


Disclaimer: Highlander: the Raven, and its respective characters, does not belong to me. However, any original characters that you do not readily recognize do belong to me. I am not making any money off this so please don't sue.

Rebuilding Bridges

Chapter 1

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We will be arriving at Charles de Gaulle Airport in thirty minutes. The local time is 6:34 in the morning. Due to international flight regulations, I would ask that all passengers return to their seats as we start our approach and remain there until the plane reaches the terminal. If you need any assistance, ask one of the flight attendants. Thank you and enjoy your stay," the captain of United Flight 899 said in a pleasant and professional manner.

Nick Wolf shifted slightly in his seat. He had been either on a plane or waiting in an airport for the last fourteen hours and he wanted out. He wanted to be on solid ground, free to move around, not contorted into impossible positions, squished between an angry businessman and an obese Chatty Cathy with the ubiquitous name of Mrs. Margie Labellefoure of Birmingham, Alabama. The trip over the Atlantic Ocean fulfilled every stereotype associated with air travel (the screaming child was four rows behind him).

Thirty minutes later, the plane touched the ground; the landing was fairly smooth. As soon as the wheels had touched the ground and the plane made its turn towards the terminal, everyone jumped up to grab belongings from the overhead bin. Apparently no one took the captain's orders about remaining in their seats until the plane stopped seriously. The angry, two drinks away from being an air rage incident, businessman pulled his carry-on out of the overhead and managed to drop two other bags on to Nick. Nick bit back the curses that were forming in his mind and tried to focus on what lay in front of him.

He was back in Paris, partially at the request of Burt Meyers to run his Paris branch. He was also there to settle his "issues" with Amanda. It had taken a lot of reflection on his part, not to mention the prodding of Adam, to get him to come back to the city of his death and rebirth.

He had died here and had come back from death as a new Immortal thanks to Amanda. He had been poisoned. As he was taking his final breaths, Amanda had shot him, killing him instantly and violently to insure that he would return to life as an Immortal. Adam had said that he might have come back even without being shot, but Amanda had made sure that his life as a normal, regular guy was over.

He was pretty much over his anger towards her, but Nick felt a lingering resentment at having such a decision made for him by someone else. He was not sure that that particular feeling was actually directed at Amanda, God, fate, or the world at large. He was pretty sure that Dr. Phil would say that he needed to process his emotions and reconcile them to reality, or some crap like that. His inner voice said he needed to yell at someone at the very least.

"Well, sweetie, it's been nice getting to know you. I hope you have a good time in Paris. Maybe we'll run into each other again," the incredibly fat woman said, in a nasally voice that she considered to be a sparkling example of southern charm, patting his thigh with her paw, her hideously dyed red head bobbing up and down like a freakish clown bobble head doll.

The plane had finally finished taxiing to the terminal and had come to a complete stop. Now everyone was eager to exit the plane, no matter who was in the way. Nick could understand the feeling, but did not want to get crushed by the mob. Instead, he sighed and waited for his turn to exit in a calm and orderly manner. He had time on his side after all.

"That'd be something Margie," Nick said, trying to keep a painful smile off his face. He could think of several other things he would rather do than that. Evisceration was one of them; being stabbed in the nuts with a rusty screwdriver was a second option.

"Well, you take care now sugar. Don't let any of those brazen French women take advantage of you," she said as she pushed past him, grazing Nick's face with her big ass, scarring him for several lifetimes.

"Shit, the things I do for Burt," Nick quietly swore, shuddering at what had just happened. He felt so dirty and violated right then.

He waited until the mad rush had subsided before he gathered his carry-on and made his way off the plane.

Once he had cleared customs he wandered down the terminal towards the baggage claims area. Nick waited along the other members of his flight, praying that the airline did not lose his luggage. While he did not care whether or not united had lost a suitcase full of t-shirts, jeans, and his toothbrush, he did care if his sword, a Barbarian, had somehow disappeared between Toragor and France. As it was, right now he felt somewhat exposed and vulnerable without it resting comfortably by his side, hidden in the folds of his coat. While he seriously doubted that an Immortal would challenge him in the middle of France's busiest airport, he was still leery at the thought of not having his sword on his person.

As he stood there, he felt a now familiar sensation wash over him; a buzzing sensation at the base of his skull brought him out of his daydreams. He quickly scanned the crowd, searching for the source of the "buzz." Instinctively, he immediately reached for the non-existent sword at his side.

Stepping out of the crowd was a familiar figure. The hair was a shade longer, but still it was an unnatural white-blond. She still looked as exotic and mysterious as ever, with a side of charm and grace. She looked absolutely stunning in a chic, short black dress that looked as if it was specifically designed for her. The high-heal black sandals served to accentuate her long legs. She had to be aware of every man, young and old alike, turning to stare at her; quite a few women were also staring – either out of jealousy or envy.

"Nick! Darling! So glad to see that you made it," she called out, whipping of her sunglasses, revealing warm brown eyes. She was smiling at him with a patented 1000-watt smile that had dazzled everyone, from kings to the lowliest peasant to ever exist.

"Hello Amanda," Nick grumbled, torn between a desire to hug her or strangle her pretty delicate neck.

TBC

Author's note:

Thank you again to those that left a constructive review concerning my last story. I would again appreciate any thoughtful and **CONSTRUCTIVE** remarks made about this story.

I should warn people on a few points:

1) This is probably going to be somewhat AU – I haven't decided completely or to what extent;

2) I use potty language in my writing, so if that offends you, don't read any further (as my husband likes to say: I have the face of an angel and the mouth of a sailor -- LOL). I also have a bizarre sense of humor, you have been warned;

3) No slash or explicit sex in this story;

4) I will probably not be able to update this very quickly because of real life (how dare my career, family, and responsibilities get in the way of a hobby!) and due to the fact I don't want to put total crap out there – just semi-crap;

5) And yes, in my previous story, I had Adam tell Nick that he was Methos. After someone criticized me for it, I have to agree with them and admit that he probably wouldn't have done so, but I could always argue that maybe Methos felt a bond with Nick and trusted him with this information, thus expanding his small and select group of friends (or I could always say, well 'tuff toenails, that's the way I like it grins -- hell, it's just a story after all).

Anyways, hope this is somewhat enjoyable and I do appreciate any thoughts or comments that you could throw my way (along with a million dollars and someone who would be willing to mow my back yard). Cheers!


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